Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bangladesh and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Slave to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Manfred Mann's Earth Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
Soft Cell,
Animal Collective,
KRS-One,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pantytec,
La Düsseldorf,
Brand Nubian,
The Velvet Underground,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kurtis Blow,
Icehouse,
Sparks,
the Slits,
Yusef Lateef,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Liliput,
The Angels of Light,
Black Moon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Gladiators,
The Saints,
Leonard Cohen,
Mr. Review,
Robert Wyatt,
Scott Walker,
David Bowie,
Kool Moe Dee,
Eurythmics,
Robert Hood,
Goldenarms,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jacob Miller,
Erasure,
Alice Coltrane,
Alphaville,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Selecter,
Donny Hathaway,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Connie Case,
Warren Ellis,
Pantaleimon,
Lucky Dragons,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Martian,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kayak,
The Gun Club,
Dave Gahan,
The Standells,
UT,
Model 500,
Scrapy,
Pole,
the Fania All-Stars,
Judy Mowatt,
The Red Krayola,
Kenny Larkin,
Nils Olav,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.